


so the mess that we'll become

by amsves



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I call this one "Fake Clandestine Affair", but with a twist, what does that mean? stick around to find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves
Summary: It's the perfect plan. Better this than Paris finding out the true identities of Hawkmoth and Mayura, anyways.[Updates Infrequently]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam.
> 
> Title from Panic! At the Disco's song "Casual Affair"
> 
> I don't know what this is either sorry
> 
> Fictober day 10 (oops): "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me."

Nathalie could feel a headache coming on. This was  _ not  _ what she’d been expecting when she arrived at work that morning. She was used to Agreste-level drama and antics and general nonsense, but this? This was new. She hadn’t even made it past the front room yet. “One more time, sir. You want us to do what?”

“I think we should pretend to be having an affair that we’re covering up very poorly.”

That was the third time Gabriel had said that sentence, and Nathalie still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She sighed, before adjusting her glasses and meeting her boss’ eyes. “You’re making absolutely no sense. Legal has been working overtime to crush those rumors. Why do you want to undo all their hard work? What’s the angle here?”

“Listen,” he said, exasperation in his voice as he took her hands very gently in his own, “ I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me. This is a good idea, I promise.”

“I trust you completely,” she admitted, “But please, try to explain anyway. How do you benefit from rumors of infidelity? The rest of the world doesn’t know how hard you’re working to bring Emilie back.”

“They don’t,” he agreed, “They don’t know about Hawkmoth and Mayura. But our absences are conveniently aligned with akuma attacks. If people finally accept that an affair isn’t the explanation, they’re going to want another one. That could lead them right to us. We’ve been too careful and risked too much to let that happen.” He smiled hopefully at her, and she felt her feeble resolve crumbling. “I want to protect both of us in the meantime, and I think that this is the best way to achieve that. Will you help me?”

Well, how could she possibly say no to that? “Of course, sir. What’s the plan of attack?”

He let go of her hands and took a step back. “I’m glad you asked. Let’s take this to my office. I have a few ideas written down.”

Once they were safely in Gabriel’s office, door shut and locked behind them, Gabriel plucked a sticky note off of his computer screen. “First, I will make a public statement denouncing the rumors.”

Nathalie nodded. “There’s nothing like acknowledging a rumor to really get it going.”

Gabriel’s smile was all teeth. “Precisely. People who have never considered the possibility will now be on the lookout for clues as to what made people believe that in the first place. Our every move will be analyzed, but I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

She nodded again, and he continued. “That’s our opening move. Once a suitable interval of time has passed, maybe a week or so, you will move in here.”

“More than I already have?” She still maintained an apartment of her own, but at that point Nathalie was basically a permanent resident of the mansion as well. Between the extensive workload that no one person (besides herself, of course) could handle alone and their secret double lives as magical terrorists, not to mention her poor health, she found little time or excuse to make the commute home every day. Staying in a guest room was just the more practical option, and Mr. Agreste had chosen her for her pragmatism, after all. 

… could she even call it a “guest” room? No guest had stayed there since she’d been hired. It had been hers, should she ever want it, since day one. 

“You’ll essentially be living here full-time,” he confirmed. “You’ll stay in your room, of course, but the gossip rags won’t know that. They’ll assume the worst, which is exactly what we want.”

_ The worst.  _ Nathalie didn’t like the sound of that. But that was hardly the most important thing on her mind at the moment. “And after I move in?”

“We give it more time, and then we take the most drastic step of all.”

“Which is?”

He fixed her with a resolute stare, and she suddenly felt very small. “We start appearing in public together.”

“You’ll go out in public? As in, you’ll attend events not on your tablet, but physically?”

Gabriel nodded, and she sucked in a breath. Her mind was whirling. “Sir, that is a very drastic step indeed. Are you sure you’re up for it? How frequently will you go out personally? Will I still be taking you places virtually on occasion? Are you sure the press won’t find it suspicious, that all of a sudden you’re out in public so often? How are we going--”  _ To find the time and privacy to transform _ was the unasked half of the final question, but she knew the answer.  _ The fake affair, remember? That’s what started all of this. We slip away, and they assume that we’ve gone to make out, or whatever it is people do when they sneak off to be alone together _ .

Nathalie had very little experience on that front, for two reasons. The first was that she simply did not have enough time for romantic pursuits. If she didn’t even have time to go back to her own apartment most days, she definitely didn’t have time to get romantically involved with another person. The second reason was that she was in love with Gabriel. 

That one seemed self-explanatory.

Gabriel placed a comforting hand on each of Nathalie’s shoulders. “We’ll take it slow,” he assured her, “I’ll go out maybe once a week at first. The times we attend events together are when we will do most of the work convincing people that we’re secretly in love, or lust, or whatever. You’ll go places as my plus one, which you already do, but you might be wearing a more … ” He visibly struggled to find the words for a few moments, before continuing with, “…conventionally sexually attractive outfit.”

“Are you insulting my work attire,” Nathalie deadpanned.

Gabriel blanched slightly. “That was not my intention. It is perfectly suited for work, and so if you were to arrive somewhere in a skirt and blouse, or maybe even a dress, it would attract attention. People might wonder why the assistant was as well-dressed as the guests of honor. You would wear nothing scandalous, because we’re aiming for a different sort of scandal, but even a slight change in attire could be very effective.”

“I can see how that would be true, sir,” she agreed, and he continued.

“Good. You also would not be working on your tablet during such events, and it might be fitting to find a chance or two to refer to me by my given name. I may take an opportunity here and there to make physical contact with you--again, nothing scandalous--or get you to blush. 

“Depending on how long we need to keep this up, I may go out more often, but that would be weeks into the plan, maybe even months. I should hope we do not have to carry on this act for that long. But it must be done, and for as long as necessary.”

_ Yes, because it would be the most terrible thing in the world, to be in love with me _ , Nathalie’s inner voice chimed helpfully. She ignored it. “You must have been thinking about this for a while, sir,” she said instead. “Your plan is very detailed. Usually, managing the minutiae would have been my job.”

“I did not want to impose on you a half-baked scheme. You deserve better.” He withdrew his hands and folded them behind his back. “Are you ready to be the talk of Paris?”

She gave him a small smile. “Am I ready to attend important and exclusive events on the arm of  _ the  _ Gabriel Agreste? How could I say no?”

He met her smile with one of his own. “Schedule a press conference for tomorrow. Alert legal that I will be making a public statement about the matter, and that I can’t be talked out of it. And, if you can find the time in our schedules, set up a meeting with my son, so that I can tell him the news in person before it goes public.”

“What are you going to tell him? Not the truth, surely?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, that would be foolish. I will simply be telling him about the rumors, and how they are unfounded, and how I will be debunking them officially. It wouldn’t do for him to be blindsided by something like this.” Nathalie unlocked her tablet and started comparing Adrien’s and Gabriel’s schedules. “Of course not, sir. I’ll get right on all of that.”

“We will succeed, Nathalie,” he said, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Of course, sir. By the time the people of Paris figure out what’s really been going on, it will be far too late. This is the path to achieve your ultimate goal. I am honored to walk it by your side.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay maybe 3 chapters
> 
> Thank you for being patient! Managing 2 WiPs is a balancing act.

True to his word, Gabriel did break the news to his son before publicly denouncing the rumors of his affair with Nathalie. And, as expected, it was all the press could talk about. 

The Agreste family had subscriptions to a variety of gossip rags, tabloids, and society magazines. The Agreste affair was mentioned on the cover of every one. 

Nathalie took the hefty stack of them all, plus an assortment of other mail, from the doorstep and placed it on Gabriel’s desk. He leafed through the stack with a smile. “This is excellent, Nathalie. It truly couldn’t be going any better.”

“We could have made it into a regular, no-nonsense newspaper, sir,” she offered, and he shrugged. 

“Who’s to say we haven’t? Have you checked them all?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, all those would report is that there is no affair. They wouldn’t take the rumor and run with it like these have. The cover image of one of these is our heads poorly Photoshopped onto a pair of models holding hands.”

Nathalie examined the image. It truly was terribly done. They hadn’t even bothered to adjust the skin tones of the bodies, and their height difference was too great. Still, this would add plenty of fuel to the fire. 

“I know I said earlier that we should wait a week before you move in,” Gabriel continued, flipping through another magazine, “But with the amount of fuss there is currently I think we should expedite that. How soon can you be packed and ready?”

“If you send me home right now, sir, I could be ready by time I would normally come in tomorrow,” she answered truthfully. 

He looked surprised. “You own that little?”

She shrugged. “My apartment is very small. I have very few things that I don’t use on a daily basis. Most of those that I do have already found their way here.”

“Dishes? Furniture? Seasonal wardrobe?” he prompted. 

“My dishes wouldn’t even fill their own box. I don’t exactly cook. Furniture would be a bit of an issue to move, true, but I can hire someone to put it in storage for me. And I don’t know what kind of ‘seasonal wardrobe’ you’re expecting, sir, because I generally wear the same thing year-round, save for a coat.”

“Stop that,” he said authoritatively, and she flinched. 

“Stop what, sir?”

“That.” When she still made no indication that she understood, he elaborated. “Stop calling me ‘sir.’ Or, at least, do it less often. The people will notice if you start talking to me in a more casual way. That would be a nice piece of evidence for them to latch onto.” 

“Fine, sir,” she responded, and then grimaced. “Sorry.”

“I suppose it would be difficult for you to stop so suddenly,” he mused. “After all, you and I have worked together for a handful of years now, and you’ve addressed me in that manner since day one. Still, you can work on it. It doesn’t have to be an immediate thing.” Clearly done with that topic, he went back to examining the mail. “You can go. I’ll see you at this time tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget to change your mailing address. I expect you will start receiving some … interesting correspondence from fans of mine or Emilie’s.”

“You think I’ll get angry letters?” 

“Of course. To the public, Emilie isn’t dead, just missing. They will see this as a terrible thing indeed, for me to be cheating on her while no one knows where she went. And, of course, there are many people who would be upset that you got to me before they did. As if they had any chance,” he added derisively. He blinked, and then looked up at her. “Did you not anticipate such a thing?”

“To tell you the truth, it didn’t cross my mind,” she said, “But I suppose it’s not surprising. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. Will you tell Adrien about this?”

He nodded, and she took her leave. 

True to her word, she really didn’t own much, and a lot of the things she did had moved into the Agreste mansion without her. Nathalie made herself a cup of coffee, her last in this apartment, she supposed, and turned on her radio for some background noise. She had always liked radio best, despite the commercials and the inability to choose exactly which song one would hear at any given time. Sometimes, the pressure of choosing made the act of listening to music less enjoying. Plus, the fact that someone else in the same city was listening to the same song at the same time was comforting. It made a big, impersonal city small and intimate. 

Coffee consumed, radio playing, Nathalie let her hair down from its usual updo before putting it in a low ponytail, one that didn’t tug so hard on her scalp. She changed from her pantsuit into a pair of dark wash jeans and a _Gabriel_ T-shirt from a few years ago that was getting a little ratty. She began her packing with her closet, since she was already in the bedroom; an hour or so was spent carefully folding each item and placing it in her suitcases. Shoes got a bag of their own, as did tights, socks, and other such garments. But in the end, all of her clothing did in fact fit in her four suitcases, and it was only noon. 

Noon seemed like a reasonable time to break for lunch. Nathalie had forgotten to buy cardboard boxes, anyways. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her attire was sloppy, but she hadn’t taken off her makeup, so she still looked mildly presentable. It would be quick, anyways. She would just run to the sandwich shop down the street and grab something. 

She made the walk of less than a mile to a place she was honestly sore about moving away from. _De Fontaine _was a little place with no tables, only seats at the counter, but the food was like nothing else when you were on a budget and just needed something tasty and filling. They stayed open late, too, which often came in handy, given her unpredictable working hours. 

There actually weren’t any Fontaine’s at _De Fontaine_; the shop had been sold a while ago to a man who went simply by André. This André, however, didn’t let love do the ordering or whatever. He simply had a variety of breads and other sandwich ingredients, and you picked which ones you wanted to eat. Nathalie appreciated that at least one André in Paris was straightforward and practical. What did the other André do if someone was allergic to or just severely disliked one of the flavors he insisted on? Honestly, it was a miracle he was still in business. People really did just hear the word “love” and turn into fools.

André recognized her from her many visits to his shop. “Nathalie!” he called from behind the counter when she pulled the door open. “What brings you here in the middle of the day?”

“I have the day off today,” she explained, sliding onto a stool at the counter. “My usual, please. And a bottle of water.”

André nodded and handed her the drink, then got to work preparing a sandwich on sourdough bread, lightly toasted, with provolone cheese, roast beef, and sliced tomatoes. “Mr. Agreste actually gave you time off? Did he hit his head or something?”

That was something else Nathalie liked about André: he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. It wasn’t like Gabriel Agreste frequented this part of Paris, anyways. She laughed. “No, it’s because I’m moving.”

“Moving?” André stopped his work and gave her a long look. “Leaving our little corner of Paris? What will I do without my late-night regular?”

“Believe me, this is what I’m going to miss. Not my tiny apartment or my commute.” She unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and took a long sip. “Having a personal chef will be nice, though. I know Miriam is an amazing cook.” With that, her sandwich was ready. She took a bite and immediately felt rejuvenated. It was crazy to her how such a simple thing could be exactly what she needed. 

“So you’re moving into the mansion,” André observed, and she tried not to choke. 

“Yes,” she confirmed, once her mouth wasn’t full of sandwich. “Mr. Agreste doesn’t see any reason for me to be wasting time on the trip to and from my apartment when I already have my own room and bathroom in the mansion. We’re so busy that I only come home four times a week, anyways. I may as well save money on rent.”

“And this has nothing to do with the rumors I heard this morning, about Mr. Agreste,” André commented. 

Before Nathalie could say anything, another customer walked into the shop. André greeted them warmly, but before he went to take their order, he wrapped her hand in his own. They were large and coarse, but warm. “I’m happy for you, Nathalie. Just come back and visit sometimes, okay? Bring that boss of yours and his son, give them a taste of how real Parisians eat.”

She smiled. “I will.”

He released her hand and went to take care of the new customer. She finished her sandwich quickly, deposited the half-empty bottle of water in her purse, and left. 

The post office was next on her list. How many boxes would be enough, exactly? She could estimate costs and budgets with ease, but spacial estimation like this wasn’t one of her strong suits. Would ten be a good amount, perhaps? She could always walk back and buy more later. Yes, ten sounded like a reasonable amount, maybe. 

Mind mostly made up, Nathalie paid for the boxes (flat at the moment, for easier transportation) and started walking back to her home. It was strange to think that it wouldn’t be her home this time tomorrow. Then again, had it ever really been her _home_? It was her place of residence, but she didn’t have a particular love for the building itself. It was the places and people around her that she would miss, but that apartment was just another space. 

It was a cloudy day, which was strange, because it had been sunny when she left her apartment for lunch. Nathalie hoped she wouldn’t get caught in the rain. There was an umbrella in her purse, but it would still be unpleasant. She walked a little faster.

She found a surprise at the front of her apartment complex, in the form of someone she knew very well. “Mr. Agreste, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I might help,” he explained, hesitant in a way that was very unlike him. “If you finish more quickly, we can take some boxes over tonight and ease the burden on ourselves tomorrow.”

“That seems reasonable,” she agreed, and it was at that moment that the skies opened. 

Nathalie grabbed the umbrella out of her purse and opened it at record speed. She handed it to Gabriel. “Here, sir. Take this.”

He did take it, and then held it over her head. “You’re the one with the cardboard,” he reasoned. “That shouldn’t get wet.”

“Neither should you,” she protested, and to satisfy them both the only solution was that he step closer to her, so that they could both be protected by the umbrella. 

“Is this better?” he asked quietly, practically chest-to-chest with her.

“Sure,” she replied, a little more breathless than she realistically should be. “Shall we go inside?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” They made their way to Nathalie’s building, Gabriel holding the umbrella over them both while Nathalie carried the soon-to-be boxes. Once they were on the covered staircase, he collapsed the umbrella and they stepped into Nathalie’s apartment together. The umbrella was left in the hallway outside. 

Gabriel wasn’t exactly helpful, per se, but it was nice to not be alone during the process. He was useful in getting things from up high, though, and in supervising when a few university-aged boys came to move the furniture. “Where is that going, by the way?” she had asked, more curious than concerned. 

“I own several storage units in Paris, so I’ve arranged for it to occupy one of them nearby,” was his response. Nathalie didn’t ask for more details; it wasn’t like she would need them any time soon, or maybe ever. Maybe when this whole Hawkmoth and Mayura mess was over, and Emilie was back, and Adrien was happy, then she would have to worry about that. If she survived. 

Nathalie didn’t like dwelling on thoughts like that, though. They would be present frequently enough; there was no need to invite them to stay longer. She and Gabriel finished packing up her apartment, her radio playing all the while in the background. She didn’t even have enough things left out to sleep there that night, despite what she had said earlier to André. Nathalie took one last walk through her now barren apartment, not that it had been particularly lived in before, and looked to see if they had missed anything. They hadn’t. 

The Gorilla came to pick them up, and they loaded what they were taking with them into the trunk of the car while a moving truck came to take the rest to the storage unit. Once they were in the car, Gabriel had Nathalie text Adrien that she would be moving in earlier than he had said earlier.

They had a slightly awkward dinner together, the three of them, that evening, before Nathalie went up to her room to unpack. And thus, she was officially a resident of the Agreste mansion. 

It didn’t feel any different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter included a fluff bingo request for anon: GabeNath + Sharing an Umbrella


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys it's me again

It took some getting used to, waking up in the Agreste mansion and knowing that she really did live there full-time, but Nathalie was nothing if not committed. She prided herself on that, as well as on her adaptability. This is what Gabriel Agreste had asked of her, and this is what she would do. Questions asked, certainly, but only so that she could ensure the end product was the best it could possibly be. 

She was already used to attending breakfast with Adrien, reading him his daily schedule and sipping on her coffee while he wolfed down his food as usual. She was already comfortable with taking the mail from the postman and leafing through it to determine what she would pass along to Gabriel and what she could deal with herself. The gossip about her and her boss on the front cover of every magazine was something to adjust to, but she took it in stride. 

In one week, it felt natural. Like she had lived there all her life. 

She tossed the junk mail in the recycling before heading into her and Gabriel’s shared office. It was a Tuesday morning. Adrien would be getting up at this time, taking a quick shower to shake the sleep out of his system, dressing himself, packing his school bag. In twenty minutes, he would be in the dining room, eating what had been prepared for him by Miriam or Sandrine or Javier or whoever was the chef on duty at that time. Nathalie had a nineteen-minute window. 

“Good morning, s-” she said, catching herself before she could complete the word “sir”. It was difficult, un-training herself in that matter, but she was working on it. “I brought the mail. The tabloids really can’t get enough of the pictures of us sharing an umbrella.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything more from them,” he replied, not lifting his eyes from his computer screen. He stood behind it, pen in hand, likely in the middle of creating a new piece. “They take what scraps we give and milk them for all they are worth. The plan is doing perfectly.” He glanced up from his work. “Come here. I need your opinion.”

Nathalie placed the mail on her desk and complied, crossing the office floor to stand beside him. “On what?”

“This.” He jabbed a finger at the sketch on the screen. “Is the inspiration too obvious?”

The sketch in question was of a collection of men’s suits, the unifying color being a deep royal blue. Some were blue with pink, purple, or gray ties and pocket squares, and some were gray with blue. The blue was very familiar, and that of course was the problem. 

“The hue,” she said slowly, “It’s Mayura’s blue.”

He sighed and took his glasses off, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So it is too obvious.” From the tone of his voice, she gathered that he was disappointed, but not necessarily surprised. 

“It wouldn’t be so noticeable without the purple and pink,” she added. “The gray and blue is fine.”

“You’re right, of course,” he muttered. “Damn. I was hoping to get away with it.” He swiped to minimize the sketch pad application. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever it is you came in here to tell me.” Gabriel walked over to his desk chair and slumped into it a bit over-dramatically. “There’s obviously something on your mind.”

Nathalie cleared her throat. “Yes, actually. The Agreste Foundation charity concert is this Friday evening.”

She paused. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. “And?”

“Adrien is playing,” she said carefully. “I was wondering if this would be a suitable occasion for you to start appearing in public, as per the plan.”

He exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “I suppose you are right. This would be a most suitable occasion to enter that phase of the plan.” He smiled. “Did Adrien ask you to bring this up?”

He hadn’t, of course, because Adrien had no idea that there was a plan at all. But Nathalie knew her employer’s son well enough to know that Adrien would be elated for days if his father attended any of his performances. “This was my idea, I assure you.”

Gabriel pushed himself up and out of his chair. “A good one. It aligns perfectly with the timetable.” He glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting to breakfast with Adrien?”

She checked the time on her own wrist. “You’re right, s-Gabriel. I’ll get going. Should I tell your son that you’ll be at his performance?”

Gabriel considered the question for a few seconds, before ultimately shaking his head ‘no.’ “I’ll go down to the dining room with you and tell him myself. Let’s go.”

On their way down, Nathalie had a thought. “If you’re joining your son in the dining room, you could sit and eat breakfast with him.”

“I don’t eat breakfast, Nathalie,” Gabriel said dismissively. “You know that.”

“Maybe just a cup of coffee, then.”

Gabriel paused on the staircase and looked back at his assistant. “Why are you insisting on this all of a sudden? You’ve never demanded I eat with Adrien before.”   


“Since you’ll already be there, it wouldn’t be inconvenient, and Adrien might already assume that you’ll be eating with him since you’re in that space, so he might be disappointed,” she said quietly. “But it was just a thought.”

Gabriel exhaled and started walking down the stairs again. “You might be right,” he said at last. “I’ll stay. Just for a cup of coffee, though.”

Judging by the confused elation on Adrien’s face when his father sat down for breakfast and broke the news, Nathalie concluded that she had been right indeed. 

* * *

In no time at all it was Friday, and Nathalie was getting ready for the charity concert. She dressed quickly in her evening gown, before turning to examine her reflection in the full-length mirror in her bathroom at the mansion.  _ Yes _ , she thought to herself,  _ I quite like this one _ . The deep purple satin was beautifully glossy, and the A-line skirt was flattering without being too clingy or revealing. The off-the-shoulder neckline framed her upper chest and collarbones nicely.  _ I could have gone for more coverage, but it isn’t the worst _ .

She twisted her hair into her usual bun, though she left a few pieces hanging in the front to frame her face and give the whole updo a softer, more romantic look. Her makeup was light and neutral for the most part, save for a bolder purple lip in the place of her usual pink. All in all, she had enough self-confidence to say to herself that she looked beautifully intimidating, and that the tabloids had better take more pictures of her this evening than they did the other day, when she and Gabriel got caught in the rain.

With that, she grabbed her silver clutch purse, threw her phone and spare key into it, and went to meet the Agrestes down the hall.

She met Gabriel first, in the master bedroom. “You like quite nice, sir,” she said, and then winced. “Sorry. Gabriel.” She meant it, too; he had always looked nice in a dark gray suit, and his purple tie coordinated with her dress without being too matchy-matchy.

He smiled. “As do you.” His praise had her instinctively standing a little taller. “I have something for you,” he continued. “Your dress is lovely, but wouldn’t you agree it’s too plain to wear without any accessories?”

She nodded, and he retrieved a silver and diamond necklace from one of the vanities.  _ Emilie’s  _ vanity, she presumed, because Gabriel didn’t seem the type to have a variety of hair, skincare, and makeup products laid out haphazardly all over the surface instead of neatly organized. 

_ This isn’t so much a necklace as a collar _ , she thought as he clasped the necklace around her neck.  _ It’s huge _ . Diamonds dripped from her neck down nearly to the top of her dress, providing quite a weight. “Sir, was this …” she started.

“It was Emilie’s,” he confirmed, much more lighthearted than she would have expected from a man lending his incapacitated wife’s jewelry to another woman. 

She touched the diamonds around her neck gingerly. “Is this really okay? For me to wear this?” 

He stepped around in front of her, and placed a comforting hand on her bare shoulder. “It really is. She hated that necklace, truth be told. I don’t know if she ever wore it outside. I bought it for her before I really knew her. I learned later that she despised silver jewelry.” He removed his hand from her skin and walked back to the vanity to grab another item. “I think she’d be relieved that you’re taking it off her hands.”

Nathalie took a moment to process that. “Wait just a minute. Are you saying I should  _ keep  _ this?”

“I am.” He placed into her palm a pair of simple diamond earrings. “Is there a problem with that?”

Nathalie mulled it over for a moment, and then shrugged. “I suppose not.” She put her earrings in, and Gabriel gave her an approving once-over before they headed over to Adrien’s room. 

Adrien was ready when they arrived, dressed in a black suit and lavender tie. “Hello Father, Nathalie,” he greeted politely. “Is it time to go?”

Nathalie nodded. “Are you ready?” Adrien hesitated, so she asked instead, “Are you nervous?”

“Honestly, I really am,” he admitted. “I want to do the best I can for the foundation, and also because you’ll be watching live, Father.” He turned towards Gabriel, a nervous smile on his face. “I’ve been practicing really hard, so everything should be great. It’s just some silly nerves, I guess.”

“A little worry is fine,” Gabriel responded. “It just shows you care. Do not allow yourself to be overwhelmed, though. You have worked hard, I’m sure. Show us, Adrien.”

The second Adrien realized his father was actually trying to comfort him, his posture became noticeably more relaxed. He took a deep breath, and turned back to Nathalie. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The ride to Le Trianon was quiet and tense, but thankfully short. When they entered the lobby, Adrien gave them both a quick hug and walked away to join the other performers. Nathalie watched him go with a fondness she hadn’t felt in a little while. “I hope things go well for him tonight,” she said softly.

Gabriel linked their arms together and guided her in the direction of their box. The performances hadn’t started yet, but their little show of their own was already on. “They will. He’s an Agreste,” he said confidently. “He wouldn’t tolerate failure, and he knows I won’t either.”

“I suppose you’re right, Gabriel,” she agreed, a little louder than strictly necessary, and held a little tighter to his arm than strictly necessary all the way to their seats.

Enjoying a concert from a private box wasn’t what one would ordinarily call ‘being out in public’, but for Gabriel Agreste this was a huge deviation from the norm. People gawked at them from all sides, which Nathalie and Gabriel did their best to pretend they were ignoring. Nathalie pulled her phone from her purse and opened the calendar app. She leaned in close to Gabriel. “Let’s go over your schedule for the next few days, shall we?”

He understood what she was getting at. They spent the few minutes before the performances shoulder-to-shoulder, working together on Nathalie’s phone. A tablet would have been far more efficient, but the forced intimacy was worth any lost productivity. They had just finished reviewing and editing the schedule for Wednesday when the lights dimmed. Nathalie put her phone back in her clutch and pretended to be interested when someone who wasn’t Adrien took the stage.

Normally, Nathalie would have loved a night out at a concert, but Adrien’s nerves from earlier had become her own. It didn’t help that she could feel several pairs of eyes on her, drilling holes into her skin. The longer these other musicians played, the more she could feel borrowed fear bubbling in her stomach. Did Adrien feel like this, too? Was he anxiously wiping his palms on his pants, fiddling with his tie, tapping his feet? Or was he calm and collected, assured by his father’s words earlier? She hoped it was the latter.

Finally, it was Adrien’s turn. He was the last musician to perform in the first half of the concert; after him, they would break for intermission. She watched with bated breath as Adrien took the stage, seated himself at the piano with the perfect poise of the model child he was, and began to play. 

At once, the audience recognized the song he was playing. Clair de Lune was a famous song, so it wasn’t surprising. One one hand, Nathalie was glad that Adrien had chosen this song to perform; because it was beloved by so many, most people would be willing to excuse minor mistakes as long as it was done well overall. On the other hand, because it was beloved by so many, most people would easily recognize small mistakes. Nathalie hoped that there would be no small mistakes.

The first few seconds were perfect, and she was able to stop worrying and simply enjoy Adrien’s performance. He really was a talented piano player, able to sweep her and the crowd up in the music and carry them away to somewhere else, even if only for a few minutes. She almost didn’t notice when he played the final chord. 

Adrien received a standing ovation. The house lights came back on, and Nathalie and Gabriel anxiously awaited Adrien’s arrival in their box.

He came running up to them in a manner that Gabriel would normally criticize for being undignified. Nathalie supposed he was willing to play nice for the paparazzi. She didn’t dwell long on that thought, however, because Adrien grabbed both of them in a tight hug. “Did you like it?” he asked, excitement dripping from his voice. 

“Son,” Gabriel said, and Adrien took a step back to meet his father’s gaze. “I loved it.”

Adrien’s smile was ear-to-ear. “I’m so happy to hear that, Father. Thank you.”

Nathalie felt bad interrupting their moment, but she did have a question. She cleared her throat quietly. “Gabriel, now that Adrien’s performance is over, would you prefer to return to the mansion or stay and enjoy the second half of the concert?”

“Oh, please stay,” Adrien pleaded. “Let’s all stay. I want to enjoy this with you both.”

“Well,” Gabriel said, “How can I say no to that?”

_ You’ve said no to many things more important than a concert _ , Nathalie thought,  _ Maybe it’s just for show, but I’m glad, sir. _ The three of them sat and talked until the lights went dim once more, and then enjoyed the show. Nathalie privately thought that none of the other musicians were as good as Adrien, but she was aware that was mostly personal bias. She loved Clair de Lune, after all. And Adrien, too.

After the second half, the three of them made their way out the front door, where the Gorilla was waiting for them. The ride home was as quiet as the ride to Le Trianon, but the tense atmosphere was gone. They were all simply tired and content to let silence sit. 

Her dress had honestly been comfortable, but Nathalie was still relieved to slip into pajamas and a robe instead. After she had changed, she went back down to the kitchen for a snack. It was after 9 in the evening, and they had eaten dinner early.

She found Adrien in the kitchen, also in pajamas. Ironically, they were red with black polka dots. “Hungry?”

He had loaded a plate with cheese, meat, and crackers. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t each much before the concert.”

She smiled. “I understand. That’s why I’m here, too.” She grabbed a loaf of sourdough bread and put two slices in the toaster.  _ This is the sort of occasion when I would go to Andr _ _ é _ _ ’s before I moved here _ , she thought as she waited.  _ I suppose that’s not something I will do much at all anymore. _ Out loud, she said, “So you’re a Ladybug fan?”

Adrien blushed. “Who isn’t? She’s the savior of Paris.”

“That is true, but not everyone in Paris wears Ladybug-inspired pajamas,” Nathalie countered good-naturedly. The toast popped. “Is she your phone background as well?”

“...Maybe. Goodnight.” 

Nathalie  _ hmm _ -ed as she spread some peanut butter on her toast and started making a pot of decaf coffee. “Goodnight, Adrien,” she said quietly. “Sleep well. And don’t forget to bring your dishes down to the kitchen tomorrow.”

“You too, Nathalie. The sleep thing, not the dishes thing.” With that, he was gone, and she was alone in the kitchen.

Nathalie wasn’t often alone in the kitchen. Gabriel employed a chef and a few helpers to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but the staff would have all left around 8 or so. She didn’t mind being alone at the moment, though. The concert had been wonderful, once she had been calm enough to enjoy it, but it had still been a lot of music. Her ears were tired. Solitude was fine for now.

“Do you mind some company?” said Gabriel from the doorway.

Or not. “Not at all,” she said mildly. “You just missed Adrien, too. It seems we were all in the mood for a snack.”

Gabriel didn’t respond to that. He simply grabbed an orange and started to slice it. 

When Nathalie’s coffee was ready, she poured two mugs. Gabriel accepted his with a gracious smile. They ate and drank together without speaking, each content to simply exist in the other’s presence. Nathalie finished her food first, and slipped her dirty dishes into the dishwasher before bidding Gabriel a soft “goodnight” and heading up to her room.

All throughout her nightly routine, she heard Adrien’s Clair de Lune in her head, and felt Gabriel’s hand on her shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I like playing dress-up with the Agreste family?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Gabriel's office he doesn't have a real desk? Doesn't he get tired of standing while working? So anyways he has a desk now.
> 
> Also HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SAM ILY SORRY I'M AN ENTIRE MONTH BEHIND
> 
> Also also I've removed the predicted chapter count because this is getting away from me. I've lost all control.

Nathalie let the tabloids fall onto Gabriel’s desk with a particular gusto that morning. As she had hoped, the paparazzi had gotten their fill of photos the previous night at the charity concert. They could stop printing those unflattering images of her with Gabriel in the rain, on her day off and dressed like it.

One of them had even picked up on the history of her necklace, as well. Nathalie was impressed. Emilie had only worn it out in public once, on the night Gabriel had given it to her. They had gone to a mid-tier restaurant and come straight home, and it was early enough in both her career and relationship that Emilie hadn’t exactly been showing off like she tended to later on. It wasn’t that she hadn’t always been fond of the spotlight; it was simply that fewer people had seen fit to give it to her. She’d gotten it for a while, though, before--well, before she fell into her coma. Which is what brought her husband and husband’s assistant to fake their affair. 

Nathalie dismissed that train of thought. This was a major victory. 

Gabriel seemed to agree. He didn’t say as much, but the hard lines in his face visibly eased when he saw them on the cover of every gossip rag: Nathalie pressed against his side, eyes wide in exaggerated excitement, the corners of his lips tilted upwards in an indulgent smile. It was a very convincing photograph. And they were the only two people in the world who knew it was fake.

Nathalie placed his cup of coffee down on the desk, and Gabriel spoke. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he began.

“Oh?” Nathalie prompted. Gabriel gestured for her to stand next to him, to view what he had been typing on his laptop. 

“We need a form of nonverbal communication, and we should nail it down before we spend any more time in the public phase of our plan,” he explained. “I have a few ideas. Let me know what you think of them.”

Nathalie let her eyes flit quickly over the typed words. _ Tap on the shoulder: I’m leaving, make an excuse and follow me. Tap on the elbow: I’m leaving, I’ll make my own excuse, you follow in a minute when you can politely excuse yourself. Tap on the wrist: we’re leaving. Tap on the base of the neck: I am going to make you blush _.

Nothing touched her neck, and yet she blushed anyways as she took in that last point. “Gabriel, what purpose does this last signal serve?”

“Well, I think it could be very useful …” he trailed off, gathering his thoughts. “For example, to prepare you before I do something that could potentially make you uncomfortable, like paying you a compliment that in any other situation would make you call Human Resources. Or if I were about to link our arms together. That sort of thing.”

Nathalie considered this. _ It makes sense, I suppose _, she concluded, and cleared her throat. “Well, alright then. I am in agreement with all four of these signals.”

Was it her imagination, or did her boss and fake-lover look just a tad relieved? “Good. I’m glad. We’ll go over these every morning, and implement them for the first time at the party on Friday evening.”

“Would that be the party Audrey is throwing?” Nathalie glanced down at the schedule on her tablet. There it was, taking up the entirety of Friday evening. She suppressed a grimace. She and Audrey didn’t get along. 

There was one thing, however, that she admired about the wife of André Bourgeois, and that was that Audrey didn’t pretend. She said what she felt and it was your job to deal with that how you would. Audrey loved to throw a good party, and while the other members of Paris’ social elite might come up with some flimsy excuse like a benefit night or showing off a new collection, Audrey didn’t bother. She wanted to throw a party, and so she would. Nathalie respected that. It wasn’t enough to change her overall opinion of the woman, but she did respect that.

“It would be,” Gabriel confirmed. “And there’s a twist this time. It’s a socialite version of a costume party. Since it’s just the two of us, I’ll be making both of our outfits myself. With your help, of course. And I’m open to suggestions of what we should wear.”

“When’s the last time you actually made a dress by hand?” 

“I can’t quite remember the last time I did an entire dress myself,” he admitted. “I believe it was for Emilie. But I still sew quite a bit. And wouldn’t it be quite a statement, for you to wear something I made especially for _ you _?”

Nathalie pictured Audrey’s face. It was glorious. “Quite a statement indeed. I’ll start brainstorming.”

Judging by Gabriel’s expression, he was picturing the same thing.

* * *

In the end, Nathalie hadn’t come up with any ideas she was satisfied with, and went to go inform Gabriel of such. She found him in the sewing room--a room scarcely used, now, but still handy--already pinning fabric on a mannequin. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have an idea, seeing as you’re already working,” she said, tone dry, and he jumped ever so slightly.

“Ah, Nathalie,” he mumbled around the pins in his mouth. “I didn’t hear you come in. I had an idea, and I was going to get started on it just in case. If you had had an idea I liked better, I would have scrapped this immediately, or at least saved it for another day.”

It was almost like Gabriel was apologizing to her. That was … cute. “So, what are you working on, then?” The mannequin gave her no hints, really. He clearly hadn’t gotten very far in; it looked like he had just started forming an underskirt of some kind. 

He spat the pins into the palm of his hand, and then placed them in the sewing basket next to his leg. “How would you feel about going as Philip and Aurora from _ Sleeping Beauty _?”

Nathalie blinked. “That … is rather far from what I was expecting, I will admit.”

“But you don’t dislike it?” he pressed, and she shook her head.

“I don’t dislike it at all. But is it alright that I’m not blonde? I hope you’re not asking me to bleach my hair.”

Gabriel looked horrified at the idea. “I would never. No, I think it will be quite lovely anyways. I’m making her blue dress, not her pink, anyways. I think blue suits you more. And Philip’s outfit has a great deal of red in it; I wouldn’t want us to clash when we go as a pair.”

“You’ve been thinking about this,” she observed, and he shrugged.

“You know us artistic types. We get an idea and it all but consumes us.”

Nathalie bit back a laugh. “That’s very true. Tomorrow, am I going to the fabric store?”

“I was thinking I might come with you, actually,” he said, casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And it was becoming that, Nathalie realized, when she thought about it. The whole point of this plan was ultimately to bring Emilie back, but it had the side effect of bringing Gabriel back into the world. Which was good for a variety of reasons, not the least being that when his wife was back she certainly wouldn’t stand for his hermit lifestyle. He’d always been a homebody, but if Emilie caught wind that Gabriel had left his house more in the past month than in the other eleven months of the year, she would be rightly horrified.

“Well, alright then.” Nathalie pulled up the next day’s schedule on her tablet. “Tomorrow is Sunday. If we go between noon and 3pm, Adrien could go with us as well. Would that be a good idea?”

Gabriel paused to consider it, but ultimately nodded. “Why not? It could be good press for us to be seen in a casual setting like that. It would make us look like a family on a Sunday outing.”

Nathalie smiled, sent a notice to Adrien that he would be busy at that time, and amended the family schedule. “I just hope he’s not too put out that he won’t be attending the party.”

“For some reason, I doubt he would miss it too badly. But I can arrange for him to see Chloe during that time, if you think he would like that? She won’t be at the party either, much to her chagrin.”

“I think he would like the opportunity to see his friend outside of school,” Nathalie confirmed. “And I think he would love that you thought of that.”

* * *

Adrien, as expected, was ecstatic that the three of them were going shopping together. Nathalie suspected he couldn’t care less that their destination was a fabric store, and that he would be just as pleased whether they were browsing video games or kitchen appliances. When they stepped into the fabric store, Nathalie glanced around and was relieved to see that it was mostly empty. Gabriel had been making real strides when it came to reintegration, but a crowd of people likely to be fans instead of peers was not something they needed to address at the moment.

Thankfully, only one or two of the handful of shoppers recognized Gabriel and Adrien, and they were easily appeased with autographs from father and son and a request to be left alone so they could work on a new project. And with that, they began to browse the bolts. 

“We’ll need an orange, a white, a pinkish-red, two shades of teal, and three shades of periwinkle,” Gabriel rattled off. “Nathalie’s fabrics should be glossy if possible; I want them to catch the light. Mine can be more matte.”

The trio got to work. Gabriel found two teals he could work with almost immediately, and began contrasting them with the orange and red for his sleeves. “This isn’t the most stylish outfit,” he remarked. “Who let Prince Philip wear orange and red stripes with a teal tunic and pants? His mother surely didn’t approve of that outfit before he left the castle that day.”

Adrien giggled. “If you hate it so much, Father, it isn’t too late to change your mind.”

“I will do no such thing,” he said firmly. “I will make this the best Prince Philip costume Paris has ever seen. Even if I have to endure some … questionable color choices. Never let it be said that I have not suffered for my art.”

Soon their shopping cart was piled high. They found what they had been searching for in a remarkably short amount of time, but even after accomplishing that objective the Agreste men didn’t seem ready to leave, and so they continued to browse the aisles. Nathalie wasn’t about to complain. 

Adrien, at one point, managed to find a lime green fabric with black cats printed on it. Nathalie ran her fingers over it at his request; it was a smooth, lightweight cotton. “It’s very soft,” she commented. “I bet this would make lovely pajamas.”

Adrien moved away from the fabric after that, and didn’t notice Gabriel adding it to their cart. Nathalie watched as he buried it under their costume fabrics. “He obviously was drawn to it, for whatever reason,” he offered by way of explanation for his actions, “So I thought it might be a nice gesture. If I bought it, we could work together on a project of some kind.”

_ Who is this hands-on father figure, and what have you done with Gabriel Agreste? _She wasn’t foolish enough to voice that thought aloud, but it made her chest just a little warmer all the same. 

Soon enough, they were all checked out, and had deposited their purchases in the car. “Where to now, Father?” Adrien asked. “Please don’t make us go back home yet. I’m having such a nice time.”

Gabriel glanced at his watch. “Well, I suppose we could go out for a late lunch of some kind,” he conceded. “Nathalie?”

A quick glance at their schedule confirmed that that was a possibility. “Where would you like to go?”

“Oh, why don’t you pick a place for us?” Gabriel said magnanimously. “I don’t get out much, as you know. Where did you eat the most before you moved in with us?”

Well, she had promised to bring them to André’s eventually. She smiled. “I know just the place. I’ll drive.”

* * *

André looked shocked to see them as Nathalie pushed open the door to _ De Fontaine _ with the Agrestes in tow. “Nathalie! Why, it’s rare to see you during the day! Although I suppose I said that last time, too.”

“You asked me to bring ‘the boys’ by sometime,” she reminded him, already feeling more at ease. This place made the ever-present tension in her shoulders just melt away. “Well, here they are, ready to eat.”

The trio sat themselves at the counter and André started making Nathalie’s order without another word. “Any idea what you’ll be eating?” he asked the other two. 

Gabriel blanched just slightly. “I’ll have whatever you recommend,” he said stiffly, clearly not having expected the question. 

Adrien had no such reservations. “Can I have my sandwich on rye bread, with ham _ and _turkey, and all three kinds of cheese? And lettuce, too, to be healthy.”

“Coming right up!” André returned, matching Adrien’s enthusiasm. Soon enough, all three of them had their sandwiches and it was time to eat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nathalie noticed that Gabriel’s sandwich was just her usual order. She smiled. 

“So, what brought you to this part of town?” André said, making conversation as he wiped down the counter beside them.

Nathalie swallowed her bite of sandwich before replying. “Nothing but yourself, truthfully. We were at the fabric store by the mansion, and then we decided to get lunch. They asked me to pick somewhere I liked to eat and, well, we’re here now.” She took another bite, and savored the taste. It was just a simple sandwich from a sandwich shop, wasn’t it? But this place was so much more to her. It was a piece of her identity that she had begun to let go of, and that made visits like this all the sweeter.

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by, whatever the reason.”

“I’m glad we came, too,” Adrien added, his sandwich already gone. “I like it here. I can see why you do, too, Nathalie.”

All eyes landed on Gabriel. “It’s a nice place,” he complimented stiffly.

Nathalie suppressed a laugh. “André asked me to show you how ‘real Parisians eat’ before I moved. I think I’ve been successful in that aspect. You don’t have to like it, though.”

“It’s not that I dislike this place,” he protested, but no one was seriously holding a grudge. They finished their lunch quickly, enjoying every bite. 

“Well, then, are we ready to go?” Nathalie asked, standing up from her seat and brushing stray crumbs off of her pants. 

“You and Adrien go out to the car,” Gabriel instructed. “I’ll pay and follow in just a minute.”

Nathalie nodded, and after saying her goodbyes to André escorted Adrien out to the car. “Did you have a good time on our outing today?”

“I did,” he confirmed, a contented smile on his face. “I feel ready to go home and work my hardest now. Thank you, Nathalie, for letting me go with you and Father.”

“You were a big help today,” she replied, and it wasn’t untrue. Adrien had kept the mood light and made the whole experience more enjoyable. She didn’t regret bringing him. “It shouldn’t be taking your father this long. I wonder what’s keeping him?”

As if on cue, Gabriel came striding briskly over to the car. He slid into place in the backseat beside his son with a sigh. “Sorry. Let’s go home now.” 

Adrien bounded up to his room to practice piano when they returned, leaving Nathalie and Gabriel to carry the fabric to the sewing room. “I think I have your measurements around here somewhere,” Gabriel mumbled, “Though this place is a mess. It might take me a moment to find them.”

The sewing room was indeed in a state of disarray. Sketches and fabric samples and sewing supplies were arranged in a way that had once been meaningful but had lost its integrity as the hours wore on. Nathalie kicked aside a pile of tulle, and there they were, as if by magic. “Found them.”

“You’re a godsend,” he quipped, marking up the medium periwinkle shade for Aurora’s skirt panels. “Would you mind leaving me for a few hours, and then getting me for dinner?”

Nathalie did a double-take. “You want to eat dinner in the dining room instead of having it brought to you here?”

“We both know I won’t eat it. I’ll need my strength to complete this project in time. It’s already Sunday evening, and this must be done by Friday at lunch.” 

That made a surprising amount of sense. “Well, I’ll do just that. Work hard, sir. I’ll see you for dinner.”

* * *

The week passed in a flurry of sewing and scrapping. It was a good thing they had purchased extra fabric. Gabriel all of a sudden would get an idea on how he could make a piece better in some way, either more accurate or more flattering, and he would start practically from scratch to achieve it. Nathalie mostly stayed out of his way, other than bringing him breakfast and dragging him downstairs for dinner. 

Adrien didn’t see his father much during that week, other than one occasion. Nathalie had come to get her boss for dinner on Wednesday, but she stopped short right before entering the room. Adrien was in there, helping his father cut panels of orange and red for the sleeves of Gabriel’s costume. She watched unobtrusively from the doorway, unwilling to disturb this moment. 

“Just follow the dashed lines I drew,” she heard Gabriel instruct, voice light like he was actually enjoying this. “When you’re done with this part, let me know. Lord knows I have more for you to do. If you want.”

“I can definitely do that.”

Nathalie took her phone from her pocket and snapped a quick picture of the Agrestes at work. She set a timer for thirty minutes, and left. She’d let them work just a little longer. 

* * *

The costumes looked fantastic on the mannequins. The skirt and cape draped just the right way. Nathalie just hoped that they would look as perfect on herself and Gabriel. 

It was the morning of the party, and time for the only fitting she and Gabriel would have time for. She slipped into the dress and suppressed a shiver as the fabric slid over her skin like water, shining in the light like crystals were sewn in. She took a step, did a turn, watched her skirt twirl around her. It fit perfectly.

Gabriel, for his part, looked like the stunning prince to her enchanting princess. He stepped forward to meet her, and his cape had just the right amount of movement to make his presence commanding but not cheesy. She rested her hand on his arm, and he covered it with his own. “Do you love it?”

“How could I not? We look amazing.” Nathalie turned her head towards the full-length mirror and admired their reflection. “But do you have a tiara for me to wear? I’m afraid we aren’t complete without it.”

Gabriel--her prince--scoffed. “Do you really think I’d make an oversight like that? I’m saving one last surprise for later.” 

Nathalie was a patient woman. But for some reason, she thought the wait until Audrey’s party was going to be an unbearably long one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me and request fluff bingo squares on [Tumblr!](http://www.skeletoncloset.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey's party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW ok I did not mean to be away for this long but I just needed a nice, long break to get my creative juices flowing for this story again. Enjoy!
> 
> This chapter includes the Fluff Bingo fill 'Tucking hair behind their ear' for Anon.

The drive to the Bourgeois hotel wasn’t long, but Nathalie was more impatient than usual. She was  _ excited _ , for once, to be attending an event with Audrey Bourgeois and her boss. Going as a guest--a  _ real  _ guest, not just Gabriel’s assistant--was going to be a whole new ballgame. Nathalie once again pictured Audrey’s face in the most humiliated, enraged expression possible, and smirked as she checked her makeup in her compact. 

Business Nathalie was always fierce and to-the-point when dealing with people like Audrey, but Plus-One Nathalie had even more reason to be so. After all, she was attending a highly exclusive party, as the date of Gabriel Agreste, wearing a custom-made  _ matching  _ outfit with the biggest name in fashion in Paris. She was about to become a  _ very _ public figure. Nathalie found she didn’t mind that.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. Nathalie reached for the door handle, but Gabriel put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Let the chauffeur open the door for you. And before we go out there, I promised I had a tiara for you.”

Gabriel retrieved a small bag from the floor of the car. Nathalie hadn’t even noticed it was there, too wrapped up in her own excitement. “Nathalie, please close your eyes.”

She obeyed, and shivered slightly as Gabriel brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t wearing her usual updo, or any updo at all; instead her long, dark locks were curled and flowing freely around her. She could feel the warmth from his breath as something cold and heavy came to rest atop her head. 

“You may open them now, and look in your mirror.”

Nathalie did so, and gasped. 

Logically speaking, she and Aurora had nothing in common besides their sex. Everything else, from their hair color to the undertones of their skin, differed greatly on paper, but in the dim light of evening, in the backseat of the Agreste limo, and dressed in such fine clothes, Nathalie was convinced. With the golden tiara, the illusion was truly complete.

“How did you get such a close replica?” she asked, breath still coming back to her. “It looks just like the reference images.”

“I have my ways,” he answered cryptically, and reached back into the bag. “I lied, earlier. I actually have two surprises: the tiara, and this necklace. We wouldn’t want to lose brownie points over something as insignificant as this.” He placed in her outstretched hands a lightweight gold chain, and she fastened it to rest at the base of her neck. “I would say that now we are truly ready to make an appearance.”

With those words, the Gorilla exited the driver’s seat and opened Gabriel’s door first, on the side facing away from the hotel. He stepped out and walked around to Nathalie’s side. When the Gorilla opened her door, Gabriel extended a hand to help her out of the car. 

Immediately, cameras started flashing. Nathalie hadn’t thought about it before, but it made sense that paparazzi would be stationed outside the hotel, capturing each guest as they went in. Well, let them. That was the whole point, after all.

They made the walk to the front doors of the hotel and proceeded to the ballroom designated for the event. As they entered, Nathalie practically hanging onto Gabriel’s arm, the doorman announced, “Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur.”

That was a change. When Nathalie attended as his assistant, she was announced as such. There were a handful of guests who didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, but the familiar faces in high society had more interesting reactions, ranging from shock to horror to a smug satisfaction. Nathalie looked around for Audrey Bourgeois to see which category the host fell into.

She didn’t have to look long. Audrey approached Nathalie and Gabriel as they started making the rounds in the room, her full gold skirt swishing as she walked with purpose (and more than a little anger). “Ah, Gabriel darling. It’s so lovely to see you here.”

Nathalie wasn’t fazed by the lack of address. She had expected as much. She simply plastered on her nicest, sweetest smile and returned, “It’s nice to see you again, too,  _ Audrey _ .” 

Business Nathalie greeting  _ the  _ Audrey Bourgeois by her first name would have been enough for Audrey to call for her firing again. But now, as Gabriel’s date, the two women were on equal footing. It would look petty and rude to insist Nathalie address her by her surname. Audrey knew this, if the subtle twitching of her eye was any indication. “Ah, yes. Natasha.”

“Her name is Nathalie,” Gabriel interjected with a smile of his own. “Anyways, Audrey. Are you dressed as Belle, and your husband as the Beast?”

Audrey did a twirl, the skirt of her dress swinging around her. “Indeed I am, Gabriel. And you are?”

“We’re Philip and Aurora from  _ Sleeping Beauty _ ,” Nathalie explained. “It was all Gabriel’s idea. And he made both of our costumes by hand, too.”

Audrey grabbed fistfuls of her skirt in anger, but her face still had a magnanimous smile on it. “Ah. Your work is incredible as always, Gabriel. I should stop inviting you to my events, so you can just make  _ my _ outfits instead!”

“Once, I would have taken you up on that,” he commented lightly, “But I’m trying to reintegrate myself into society somewhat. I’ll never be the life of the party, but being a shut-in has severely damaged my creativity. It’s all thanks to Nathalie that I can be out in the world and, therefore, gather inspiration for the future.”

Audrey took a sharp breath through her nose. “Is that so? Well, I won’t hold you up any longer. I should continue to make my rounds, anyways. Enjoy the party.”

Nathalie leaned in closer to Gabriel. “Oh, we will. Thank you again for inviting us, Audrey!”

Audrey and Nathalie locked eyes for a long moment, and Nathalie could see her mentally weighing the pros and cons of slapping Gabriel Agreste’s stupid rude  _ assistant  _ right then and there. Ultimately, the cons must have won, because Audrey flashed them both one last smile and departed. 

When she was a safe distance away, Nathalie and Gabriel looked at each other and started laughing. 

“That was the greatest thing I have witnessed in quite some time,” Gabriel confessed in a whisper, wiping a tear from his eye.

Nathalie blushed. “Oh, it was nothing. Just a little verbal sparring. You should really come to more of these events in person. If she and I are both there, you’ll be sure to see some more of that.” 

Gabriel shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “I have always wanted to knock her down a peg or two, but I couldn’t without committing a major faux pas. But you, you did it by forcing her to either swallow her disdain or commit one herself. That was beautiful.”

Nathalie looked up to meet his eyes, and suddenly became aware of just how close together their faces were. She leaned back ever so slightly, the curve dropping from her lips. Gabriel, a second later, noticed too, and took a small step back to increase the distance. They were still close enough that Nathalie could reach out and caress Gabriel’s cheek, should the moment call for it, but they were no longer about to bump heads.

It felt just a little colder at this distance. 

* * *

They circulated for a bit, greeting old friends and business acquaintances of Gabriel’s. Many of them were surprised to see Nathalie all dolled up and on his arm, but just as many didn’t remember her at all, or seemed to have been waiting for something like this. 

About forty-five minutes into the party, Gabriel and Nathalie were in the middle of talking to a textiles company CEO when Nathalie felt a featherlight touch on her elbow. If she recalled correctly, that was code for  _ I’m leaving, I’ll make an excuse, you follow me in a minute when it’s polite to disengage from conversation _ . 

Sure enough, when the CEO paused to draw a breath, Gabriel bowed out. “If you’ll excuse me, Pierre, I’m simply parched. I find myself in dire need of some refreshments. I will follow up with you sometime Monday?” Without waiting for confirmation, Gabriel left, walking casually but with purpose towards the edge of the room. The bar was located there, but so was an exit from the ballroom to the main part of the hotel. 

Nathalie was willing to bet that he’d be slipping through that door any second. She turned back to Pierre and chatted with him for a minute more, before excusing herself with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I really shouldn’t leave Gabriel unattended. He’s not a party person, and if I don’t stop him he might just slip out and go home early.”

That said, she turned and slid through the crowd easily. It was most likely her imagination, but it did seem that the various costumed socialites parted ever so slightly for her as she made her way towards her employer.

Right before she reached the near end of the bar, Gabriel departed from the far end and--sure enough--slipped discreetly out the exit.

Nathalie ordered a drink and took a few sips before abandoning it on the counter and following after.

Outside the ballroom, the overlapping chatter and quiet music melded together into one low tone by the walls separating the party from the conspirators. Nathalie approached Gabriel and crossed her arms in front of her. “So, what now?”

“Follow me,” he whispered conspiratorially, and with a wink and a hand on her wrist pulled her gently down an empty hallway. A little ways down was a maintenance closet, and when Gabriel tried the handle, it twisted easily. “In here.”

It was a bit of a tight squeeze for two people and various cleaning equipment, but they made it work. “Did you sense a strong negative emotion?” Nathalie asked, keeping her voice low.

Gabriel chucked drily. “Oh, did I  _ ever _ . You’ve only ever made Audrey this angry when you moved her to the second row. But we’re ignoring her for the night. She forced a banquet server to come in on his day off, even though he had intended to visit his sick mother this evening. He’s understandably unhappy. We are going to use that righteous fury to our advantage.”

“Sometimes, I forget that other people see us as the villains,” she returned, the excitement clear in her voice. “But then, you say something like that, and it all comes back to me.”

“Just don’t forget that we are doing all of this for a higher cause,” he countered. “Public opinion is of no importance to the famous. Villainy or fashion, it makes no difference.”

“I suppose not,” she agreed lightly. “Will you need me to transform?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather you didn’t. You would be too weak to return to the party after this is all over, and the aftermath is just as important. But stay with me. Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!”

* * *

The lights were off in the closet, and the only light in the otherwise total darkness came from Hawkmoth’s purple akuma mask. Nathalie waited patiently as he instructed “Sooner or Waiter”, the unfortunate banquet server, to raise hell for Audrey Bourgeois and steal the Miraculous. As soon as his villainous monologue was over and the victim accepted his powers, the screams started. 

“What power did you give him?” she whispered.

“Nothing terribly original,” he replied. “Time moves more slowly for him and more quickly for others, or so he claims. Really, he just has a speed boost applied, and those he touches get a speed reduction.”

“And you think he could be the one to best Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

Hawkmoth snorted and shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it. I don’t think Monsieur Pigeon will defeat them, either. But I akumatize them anyways to tire out those children, and give them more opportunities to make mistakes. The old Guardian has retired, and if I’m not mistaken he entrusted his role to Ladybug.”

Nathalie nodded in understanding. “The pressure will get to her. She’ll crack.”

Hawkmoth smiled, and in the dimness of the closet only his teeth were visible. “Precisely. And when she does, we shall be ready.”

At that moment, the mask over Hawkmoth’s face flared. “Ah, I see our heroes have arrived.” His voice was dripping with contempt. “Destroy them, Sooner or Waiter! Taking their magic jewels is the ultimate way to make Audrey Bourgeois pay!”

_ I’m glad I’m not on his bad side _ , Nathalie thought to herself.  _ I did swear I would do anything for the Agreste family, after all _ .  _ It’s much better to be on  _ _ the _ _ bad side. _

Ultimately, Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to subdue the disgruntled banquet server, and the world was fixed once more with the Cure. Nathalie and Gabriel waited a few minutes more after his detransformation before re-entering the ballroom.

At once they were accosted. Nathalie blinked as Jagged Stone approached them and cupped her hands in his own. “Oh, thank goodness you’re both safe! That akuma was so not rock’n’roll.”

Gabriel subtly pulled Nathalie from Jagged’s grip. “Indeed. We were afraid, so we hid out in the hallway--far away from Audrey--and waited for the heroes to save the day. 

Jagged  _ hmm _ -ed as he digested that explanation. “But, the akuma started slowing people down so quickly, how could you have run out of the ballroom in time? And if you opened the door he would have noticed and caught you.”

“Ah …” “Well, you see …” Both Gabriel and Nathalie pretended to be at a loss for words. 

A look of understanding crossed Jagged Stone’s face. He patted Gabriel once on the shoulder. “Right. Well, whatever you do, bro, just remember that it  _ is  _ rock’n’roll to respect women. Treat her right, okay?” To Nathalie, he added, “Take care of yourself, hon. Well, I’m gonna grab a drink. I think we earned it.”

Jagged left, and Gabriel chuckled to himself. “Conversations with him are always bizarre. But it seems he picked up the implications all right. I would consider this a victory.”

“The first of many,” Nathalie supplied, and Gabriel nodded. 

“Now, let’s get back to flaunting in front of Audrey, shall we?”

Nathalie replied by hooking her arm around his and leading the way to the dance floor. 

* * *

After another hour of socializing, dancing, and generally doing whatever they could to draw watchful eyes and cameras, Nathalie could tell that Gabriel was getting tired. This was a big step for him, after all. He hadn’t gone to an event like this since Emilie … well. Since she stopped dragging him along. 

“What do you say we head out early?” Nathalie suggested lowly, ever so slightly elevating herself onto her tiptoes to be closer to Gabriel’s ear. “As wonderful as your costumes are, my feet are starting to hurt, and these long sleeves are rather hot in a crowded room.”

“Same here. Why don’t we stop by Audrey and André over at the bar to say goodbye?” 

“That would only be polite, wouldn’t it?” She turned her gaze towards the bar, where Audrey was sulking in her yellow gown and Andre--dressed in a brown textured suit--seemed to be frantically trying to appease her. “After all, they are our gracious hosts.”

Audrey looked none-too-happy to see them approach, but she kept her composure anyways. 

Pity. 

If they had gotten into some sort of fight, verbal or otherwise, the tabloids would have  _ loved  _ that. Nathalie could see the headlines now, about Gabriel’s lover getting heat from his mentor. Maybe they’d even go so far as to insinuate Audrey was so enraged because Gabriel had had an affair with  _ her  _ as well. Whatever route the tabloids went, it would have been a PR ‘nightmare’. Or a dream come true, depending on your point of view.

But as it was, it was probably better that Audrey stay cool and collected. A fight with the Queen of Fashion would overshadow all the subtleties of their hard work. 

Goodbyes concluded, Gabriel and Nathalie walked arm-in-arm to the front doors of the hotel, and then to the car. It wasn’t until they were safely inside and speeding away that they once again burst into laughter.

“I would go to parties with you every week,” Gabriel said between breaths, “If only I could see Audrey Bourgeois  _ that _ ready to explode.”

Nathalie tried--and failed--to quell her hiccups before replying. “I thought for sure she was going to throw her drink at me at the end there. Or smash the glass over my head. Maybe get the Beast to attack me.”

“What a sight that would have been. M. and Mme. Bourgeois, attacking the assistant and date of Gabriel Agreste at their own party.” Gabriel sighed and leaned back in his seat, letting his head hit the headrest. “

Nathalie allowed herself exactly fifteen seconds to daydream about that scenario. Maybe Gabriel would have slapped Audrey or punched André, consumed by a protective and jealous rage. Maybe he would have taken the gentlemanly approach, placing himself between her and the attack. Maybe he wouldn’t react in time and she would be hurt, and he could be seen publicly inspecting her injuries or even carrying her out of the hotel …

Fifteen seconds was over. Nathalie cleared her head. 

A glance to her side revealed that Gabriel had his eyes closed. He seemed to be taking a nap. Nathalie checked her phone.  _ It’s rather late … we didn’t realize how much time had passed, or at least, I didn’t. I was having too much fun … He did well tonight, going out and socializing. Much better than I was expecting. I only hope he didn’t use up all of his social charisma on this one night, we need to go out several times over the next few months to make this plan of his worthwhile …  _

She must have nodded off, because when she looked out the window they were already in the garage. She and Gabriel wearily climbed the stairs, said goodnight to Adrien, and closed their respective bedroom doors. 

Nathalie could barely summon the strength to peel off her costume and change into pajamas before she collapsed. 

It was deep, dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All people do in my GabeNath fics is get dressed up and sass each other. 
> 
> Thank you KatColorsTheStars in the Gabenath Book Club and Art Club for the idea of Audrey and André's costumes!
> 
> Find me and request bingo squares on [Tumblr!](http://www.therewillbebeauty.tumblr.com) I'm playing both Fluff Bingo _and_ Bad Things Happen Bingo, so I can either torture or pamper your fave--or both!


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